


Bleeding Out

by Qpenguin98



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sadstuck, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, dave is sad, dave turns from sad to scared of dying really fucking quick, notice theres not character death ehhh there you go b e happy, tell me if im missing any tags, that's the big one, they're gay boys but they're not all smoochy i'm sorry, welcome to 4 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qpenguin98/pseuds/Qpenguin98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave is sad and he doesn't realize that bleeding out is terrifying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Out

You lay on the floor of your room, surrounded by wires and photographs. You are, at the current moment, breathing slowly, terrified of everything around you.

You’re half certain you failed your last test in Math. You’re absolutely certain you failed the book report in English. You lost your photography portfolio on the bus ride home, and your Bro hasn’t been at the house in three days.

You think you’re maybe dying.

Your brain certainly thinks you are.

You look to your left and see your sword, in all its shitty fucking glory. You stand numbly and pick it up, making your way to the roof. There’s nothing up there but crows, and you sigh in relief.

It starts as a simple training routine. And then you just stand there, sword poised above your head. You look at the edge, sharp. Very sharp.

Sharp enough to make everything stop.

Make your failing grades go away, make the contempt your Bro feels for you go away, make all the numbness in your head go away.

You sit.

The blade makes its way to your wrist and you slice quickly.

It starts bleeding quicker than you expected.

It’s actually really scary and you want it to stop. You’ve got your hand pressed against it, sword clattered to the ground, but it just bleeds through the cracks between your fingers.

You might be crying a little.

You wipe off your hand and fish out your phone with a shaking palm.

It rings and rings before the person you’re wanting picks up.

“Hey Dave!”

“John I’m scared.” Your voice is quiet and shaky and you just want your arm to stop leaking.

“What? Are you okay?”

“I’m bleeding and it won’t stop and I’m scared John, what do I do?”

You hear noises from the other side and maybe he’s getting into his car, you think, and you hope he gets here soon you’re crying into the speaker and it’s so pathetic.

“What happened? Keep talking to me okay? Did you call 911? Should I call 911? Dave!”

You laugh a little through all the wooziness and crying. “Fuck, how am I supposed to talk to you when you won’t stop?”

Oh god your hand’s going numb. You slam your wrist against your knee to try and staunch the bleeding.

“Is there any way for your Bro to help?”

Your mouth is dry and you’re gasping for air, hyperventilating into the receiver. “N-no. Not home.”

“Fuck. Fuck!” You can hear how scared he is through the growing fog in your head. “Where are you? Are you in your apartment?”

“Roof.”

You’re having trouble swallowing. A door bursts open and then John is at your side, crying a little and pulling you up by your shoulders. Your feet feel like they’re dragging, but you’re not exactly sure. Everything’s too much in your head and he’s wrapping something around your still bleeding wrist and you can hear his panicked sobs in your ear before everything goes black.

\---

Your brain is black for what feels like too short. But it gets bright and heavy the second you wake up. You groan a little at how uncomfortable everything feels.

Your eyes groggily open, and you look down at hospital sheets. Fuck, you hate hospitals. They’re too clean and way too fucking bright for you.

You glance to your right and see John passed out in the visitor’s chair. It’s kind of adorable, really, the way his glasses are all off kilter.

White gauze covers your wrist, and you’re god damn thankful that they got it stitched up.

A grunt comes from the doorway and you see your Bro standing there, leaning against the frame. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are raised in a silent question. You groan and lean back against the pillows.

“What happened, lil’ man?”

“Slipped during practice. I got scared and called John.”

“Real convenient place to slip.”

“Yeah. Fucking terrifying when you’re alone.”

You let every ounce of venom you can muster drip with that last statement. It’s not much, but it does the trick.

“Since when did you start slicing your wrists open every time I leave the house?”

“Since I slipped, dumb ass.”

“Cut the act, everyone knows you’re lying.”

You seethe at him. John makes a noise, and you turn. He wakes up slowly, and then he’s jumping up and hugging you.

“Oh god I thought you were going to die I was so worried. What the fuck happened that you were bleeding that badly, I was so scared, please tell me it wasn’t purposeful.”

You pause.

“No. Bad slip up in sword practice. I was scared too bro, believe me. Feeling your head go numb from a mess up in practice is not the way I wanna go.”

He sags in relief against you as you glare at your Bro. He adjusts his hat and leaves. You tighten your arms around John and bury your face in his neck.

“Fuck I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It was a slip up. You just have to be more care-”

“It wasn’t a slip up I just didn’t want to say anything in front of Bro.”

He tenses and pulls back. You can see the hurt in his eyes and it makes you wish you’d never said anything.

“You mean… You did that on purpose?”

“Yeah, fuck I don’t know. I did at first and then it wouldn’t stop bleeding and I got terrified. I didn’t just call you for shits and giggles to have you hear my dying breaths man, I was scared shitless.”

He’s going to start crying again, you can see it.

“But,” his voice is thick and you feel like scum. “Why?”

“I had a really, really bad day.”

“You can’t just kill yourself for that!” You hope to god your Bro’s not outside the door, or he would’ve heard that.

“No, I… it’s not that it’s a lot of stuff. My grades are dead, my portfolio went missing on the bus, Bro’s literally almost never home.”

You mouth tastes like sandpaper.

“Talk to me! I’m your best fucking friend, I exist to be talked to about this stuff! Shit, I thought you were going to die and I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do Dave. You’re always there for me, so why can’t I return the favor. It’s got to be better that almost dying!”

You’re the worst person on the earth. John’s crying again and you’re trying not to. He’s got your hands in his and he’s cutting off circulation by holding them so tight, but it’s okay.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t think right everything was just so much, fuck John I’m so sorry.”

Your wrist hurts, but at least you’re not dead. John hops up onto the bed, and you don’t think he’s allowed to do that, but it will definitely make this hospital room more bearable if you can curl up next to him, so you won’t complain. His arms are warm and familiar around you and you fall back asleep, exhausted.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to what Que writes when they want to die.  
> featuring: dave strider! the main vent outlet


End file.
